Ended Like This
by Taisi
Summary: Zim's been acting strange- even for Zim- and for whatever reason, Dib's worried. ZADR
1. Part 1

Part One -

_"Coming, Earthling?"_

He sighed, wandering aimlessly down the hall, bookbag thrown over his shoulder, weighing his back down with heavy textbooks. _Why _he was suddenly loaded with homework he didn't know. His first year in High Skool, and this is what greeted him two weeks into the first quarter. Shaking his head he rounded the corner and kicked the front doors open, the rich smell of damp earth wafting in on the slight breeze the double doors made.

Rain. A sigh. And then he took notice of the creature sitting dejectedly on the bottom step, just inches out of the rain but still relatively safe from harm. He glared at the rain as it made its course, unblinking and unmoving, like wound springs, or a coiled snake prepared to strike. Dib blinked, took a step forward; the slightest brush of his boot on concrete was enough to make Zim glance quickly over his shoulder, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously. When he saw who it was, he relaxed slightly, but still stood and faced him.

"Dib-stink," came his acknowledgement of Dib's presence. Dib scowled.

"What are you doing just sitting here?" he asked, shifting the shoulder strap of his bag and crossing his arms.

"Well, worm-baby, the sky is leaking," Zim replied, pointing in a generally "up" direction. "As you once deducted from _careful observations_," there was a snarl in his voice that made Dib want to step back, "I cannot get _wet. _Therefore, I must sit here and wait for dry." To prove his point, he sat. Against the wall. Where he could not possibly be shoved into the rain, unless the wall were to suddenly become animate...He scooted forward a few inches. Crazier things had happened.

"Well, why don't you just call--"

"Not that it's any of your _buisness, _filth-monkey, but G.I.R. is currently sleeping," Zim cut him off with the explanation, already too impatient to wait for the rest of the question. "He wore his battery down with his foolish antics, and I ordered him into a shutdown for at least thirty-two hours for him to recharge." He stopped there, returning to gazing out at the dismal weather, chin rested in his gloved palm, elbow on his knee.

He had grown since they entered High Skool; he was still short compared to Dib (who had had an amazing growth spurt of about six inches), but his vertically-challenged attributes made him all the more cuter...

_What. The hell. Was I just thinking? _Dib shook himself. _I really need sleep. _He hefted the bag's weight up a bit, and then said, "Well, I'm heading home" to which Zim replied, "Begone with you, foul Earth-larva." Dib rolled his eyes and started home; pausing on the sidewalk when he reached the street, he glanced back. Zim hadn't moved an inch, eyes cold and watchful as the sky continued to 'leak'. Despite that, when Dib looked at the bigger picture, the alien looked, for lack of better word, _lonely. _

And although he hated himself with each step, he walked back up to the stone steps of the High Skool and deposited his heavy overcoat on the creature's head, sufficiently muting any rantings before they started. "Put that on and walk. I'm following you to your base to make sure I get it back."

Zim stared at him, no small amount of suspicion and mistrust in his lense-covered eyes. "I don't want your filthy garments," he said eventually, holding the article of clothing back out to him while adopting a proud and superior expression. "You're wretched human body would probably not last for long in such cruel weather."

"...Zim. The rain is _warm._" But seeing as the alien loathed it, nothing would change Zim's settled dissaproval on that particular aspect of weather; thus, Dib sighed and trudged up the steps to sit by his green peer. The creature shifted away suspiciously (somewhere inside him, in a place he could not decifer, Dib was hurt; did Zim really think he'd shove him into the rain?...Then again...) "Then I guess I'll just wait with you; who knows what you could be up to."

The alien scowled, and opened his mouth to say something that would probably make little sense and yet still somehow get his point across efficiently (current point being: Go. Away), but was interrupted by the squealing of tires and a human's scream. They both spun around to find a scene from a Hollywood thriller playing before their eyes; a car speeding quickly away from a limp form lying in the middle of the elsewise deserted street...

Dib inhaled sharply, eyes wide, and abandoned his coat and bag, racing forward. He dropped to his knees at the young man's side, trembling at the sheer horror of it all. The man was still conscious, eyes restless behind almost-closed eyelids, and there was no blood. His hands fluttered helplessly over the man, ready to pull him over onto his back, but then suddenly Zim's voice snapped, "Don't move him, Dib-stink!"

Dib blinked up to see Zim standing by him in the road, using Dib's jacket as a tent/shield from the rain, peering at the man with an expert's eye. "You shouldn't move him," he said quieter, crouching slightly. Silence reigned for about ten seconds, and then Zim was running off, coat and all, leaving Dib there with the man he wasn't supposed to move, who was probably in a lot of pain if the conscious twitching had anything to do with it, on an empty street, alone, in the rain.

There were several things Dib would have liked to have said to whatever God it was that decided his karma from recent years sucked, but before he could gather them all together in a comprehensible list, Zim came trotting back, breathing heavier than before, towing a pig-shaped balloon three times bigger than himself along with him. From the way he seemed relieved Dib and the man were still there, some time must have passed. Dib frowned inwardly, still a mess of panic; was he (Dib) really this worried for a stranger? The answer was obvious, and he sighed. Zim was pressing several buttons on a small remote attatched to the base of the rope connected to the pig (o.o), and then the pig was a small platform topped by a glass dome, said platform sliding under the man and closing back up again, showing itself as a pig once more. Zim seemed satisfied, and glanced back at the black-haired boy. "Coming, Earthling?"

"To where?"

Zim blinked. "Does your dwelling-hole not have an infirmary?"

... "Oh! The hospital!"

"Yes, yes," Zim said impatiently, tugging on the pig's rope. "Lead the way, human."

---

As they neared the building, Zim stopped around the corner, backing into an out-of-the-way alley on the same block. He frowned slightly, pondering how this should be done. The jacket started to slip off his head and he gasped, yanking back into the relative safety of a doorway; in doing so, he knocked against a large cardboard box, that fell over to reveal various contents. Articles of clothing, toys, shoes, some books, a baseball and a skateboard.

"_How _am I so _brilliant?!" _Zim shrieked in triumph, punching the air. Dib, over his case of 'freaking-out-ness', set to gathering what they would need to make an efficient gurney of sorts.

Once they'd settled the man (who, by the way, had lapsed into unconsciousness on the way to the hospital) on their rolley-thing, Dib glanced back at Zim for assitence in rolling him up to the hospital, but the alien was muttering as the rain began to seep through the jacket, and said, "I have to stay with the pig. It wouldn't do for some _human worm _to find it."

Moments later when Dib emerged from the hospital, a nurse followed after him, gushing with thanks and admiration for his bringing the man in; he denied full credit, and glanced at the alley he'd left Zim in; the pig, the alien and his jacket were gone.

_"To where?"_

Part One - End

A/N: Different from my usual style of writing, I believe. In case my faithful readers are wondering: YES, I plan on updating my Naruto fics soon! I wanted to make them all lengthy updates, since you've been waiting for so long...;-; Would you rather I updated with only a few paragraphs? -hopeful- But, no, even if you did I wouldn't. I hate it when authors do that, and it'd be hard to pick up from there.

Anywho...for people reading this who've no clue what I'm talking about...Thanks so much for reading my first Invader Zim ficcy! ((It is ZADR in future chapters. Light ZADR, but ZADR nonetheless.))


	2. Part 2

Part Two -

_"Are you okay?"_

Dib pounded up the walk, amazed to find himself the target of no gnomes. It made him worry a little more; not that he was worried about _Zim, _of course, just the jacket the alien had borrowed and then run off with. He rapped on the door, waiting impatiently in the light drizzle. No one answered; he tried the doorknob--of course it was unlocked, Zim didn't have to worry about anyone making it past the gnomes. But the gnomes weren't activated...

He stepped inside. He knew the place well enough, having been in it so many times. He pondered the fact that he was one of the only humans who'd ever step foot inside it--and better yet, he'd suffered no permanent alterations because of it.

"Zim?" he called out to the room in general. There was silence. "Zim!" As the quiet lengthened, he felt himself get a little frantic, verging upon deeply concerned for his arch nemesis's well-being, not that he'd admit _that _under torture.

A whirring sound; the purring of metal workings--and then the green alien was striding into the den from the kitchen, with that familiar (and at the moment, slightly welcomed) scowl on his face as he eyed the human darkening his doorway. "Why is the Dib here?" came his confused query. It seemed his confusion was genuine, but it still pissed Dib off a bit.

"I _came _because you _ran off,_" Dib snapped, clenching his fists. "You _left me there _with that _guy _who _may or may not have been _alright!"

"_Was _the human alright?"

Dib faltered. "Yeah..."

"Then why do you continue to complain?" he asked in obvious irritation.

"It's because of the fact that you _ran. Off,_" Dib reiterated, with much arm-flapping. "Why did you leave?"

"I am not needed," came his matter-of-fact reply, "in matters such as those."

"Then why did you _help?"_

"_Why must you interrogate the Zim?! _The Zim has no reason to answer these questions! The Zim is busy!"

When he started talking in third-person, a habit he'd broken at the end of middle school, Dib knew that the matter was best left until another time. "With what, more world-domination plans?"

"Always prying."

Dib made a face.

--

"Here," the coat was thrust at him. "I removed the moisture from the filthy fabric for your incapable wormy self."

Dib took his favorite jacket, glancing over it with an expert's eye. "You dried it for me?" he asked suspiciously, transfering his incredulous gaze to the green being.

"Obviously, Dib-human." Zim was already walking away, back in the general direction of the kitchen. "Now remove yourself from my base or my security bots will do it for you."

He didn't doubt that the alien would make good his threat; he walked to the door quickly, aware of the ominous shadows the Mom- and Dad-bots cast. Opening the door, he remembered something. "Oh, your gnomes are off or something, they didn't try to kill me."

Zim paused, not turning around. "That's odd." _He's not denying the fact that he wants to kill me, _Dib thought with a shudder. "I'll activate them now."

"Will you be at school tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes--now leave Earthenoid filth." And Zim was gone.

"Goodbye to you, too," Dib muttered, and then added, "Yeah, yeah, I'm going!" when the two bots twitched to life.

--

He threw his bag down on his desk just as the final bell rang. The teacher raised her eyebrow at him--a look that said clearly "close call"--and then welcomed the class and began writing the day's assignment. Dib glanced over furtively at Zim's seat. It was empty.

"Goddammit," he hissed under his breath, clenching his fists under his desk. "Little fecking liar." His voice was too loud, apparently, because several of the students turned to stare at him. He kept his eyes ahead; he'd long since learned they got far more upset at being ignored than they did at being argued with. He tried to pay attention to the lesson, but his mind kept drifting off to other things.

_I wonder if that man really is okay...Should pay him a visit, just to be sure...Doctors were saying something about internal bleeding, that can't be good..._

He wouldn't go to Zim's house (er, base); the jacket had been his excuse before, and now he didn't have one. Stroking the fabric of his sleeve, he contemplated his plans for the weekend. He'd spend his Friday night at home with Gaz, since their dad left suddenly on some buisness without a word and only a scribbled note on the kitchen counter to explain his absence. Spending time with Gaz wasn't high up on his Fun To Do list, so he trudged upstairs as soon as he got home and locked himself in his room. Booting up the computer, he fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as though, with time, it might answer all the questions buzzing inside his head. He fell asleep without meaning to after a few hours of silent contemplation of nothing in particular; his sleep was dreamless.

When he woke up, it was dark; he glanced at the clock, and blinked. The clock read that the time was about a half hour before he'd fallen asleep...

"I slept all day?!" he yelped, sitting upright with a start. Had he really been that tired? Of course, he didn't usually go to bed until late, up all night tracking down Zim or studying all the data he'd gathered to learn more about the alien, his schemes and his race. And when he did finally sleep, he had nightmares, and would nine times out of ten wake himself up in a cold sweat.

_No wonder. _He rubbed his eyes, a little groggy but already getting restless. He contemplated going and getting something to eat (his stomach loudly concured), but heard Gaz banging about in the kitchen; she was obviously in a bad mood. He'd rather avoid that confrontation...

He warned himself not to think of Zim; threatened himself with actual physical bodily harm. He rummaged around in a cardboard box for some old dusty volumes of books he hadn't read in years. There were quite a few; he was quite the little bookworm when he was younger. He smiled to himself, and dragged the box across the room so he could reach it without getting up from his bed later.

By the time he was a few pages in, he was reading hungrily, completely emmersed in the battered book's pages. He'd forgotten the stories his books used to tell him; he read them because they were the only thing in his life that never changed, or died, or left him alone. When he finished it, he shut it gently, stroking it's worn cover.

After thinking about it, he reached into the box blindly to select another. Saturday passed into Sunday; he snuck downstairs to raid the fridge, but didn't stay for too long. Bringing his food back upstairs, he almost ran the last few steps because the front door opened with a bang. _Either dad or Gaz. _Wouldn't be pleasant seeing either. So he set the plate in front of him, the cup on the floor and eagerly picked up the book he'd left unfinished.

He fell asleep reading, and woke up in the middle of the night with a strangled cry; a faceless, sexless being had entered his dream, crying something over and over again, sounding tortured, agonized. And then everyone was screaming, ripping their faces off until they all looked just like it...It was more of a creepy, startling, disturbing dream than a frightning one.

But he sat up quickly and turned on the lamp. There was no way he'd get back to sleep now; and there was no possibility of having the pleasant dreamless slumber again. It had never happened before Friday night, and it probably wouldn't happen again.

His wandering mind found a single topic and clutched it; he spent the rest of that sleepless night thinking about _him._

--

He trotted into the classroom, the first to arrive. Ms. Winters glanced up and smiled at him; unlike their grade school teacher (he shuddered at the thought of her), she was pleasant, and glad to have Dib in her class--she told him so frequently. He knew it was probably because everyone else thought too much alike, and didn't really take a step outside the box. While his ideas were usually wild and outlandish, she would humor him by asking him why he thought that and what theories he might've had on the subject.

"How was your weekend?" she asked him, writing something on the chalkboardHe took a glance at it. _Math homework today--fuck_.

"Uneventful," he answered truthfully, sitting down at his desk and cupping his chin in his hand. The rest of the students filed in eventually, chattering amongst themselves excitedly, way too happy for a Monday morning. He stifled a yawn; truth be told, the only reason he'd been early was because he'd wanted an escape from the thoughtful silence of his dark room.

Nothing in town had exploded; there had been no reports of a sudden infestation of mutated creatures (that he knew of); there was no sudden disappearance of people or equipment or hardware.

Two full days to do nothing but reak havoc, and Zim hadn't shown himself or initiated a scheme all weekend. He found himself wondering what might have happened...

_It's for the better, _he was trying to convince himself. _Maybe he went back to Irk--he could've been assigned another planet, or needed some parts for G.I.R. he can't get on Earth. It's been wet recently, maybe he got stuck outside and..._

Why did those thoughts, that last one especially, fill him with anxiety and dread? _So, the alien might've kicked the can--good riddance! _If only it were that easy. He started drumming his fingers, suddenly very nervous.

"Alright, class," Ms. Winters said, standing in front of her desk with a bright smile. "Let's take attendance." The kids all shuffled around, turning to face front and sliding out their textbooks. One by one she called them by last name; Dib was staring distractedly out the window at the dark-grey clouds forming in the sky, listening with a detached awareness.

She got to the Es. Of course Zim couldn't go forever without a last name, so he had created one at the fist available opportunity. So when Ms. Winters said "Etal," everyone knew she was talking about the little purple-eyed boy with the skin disorder.

Etal. Et al. Or, if one cared to translate that from Latin into English, "and others". It was small wonder why Zim chose Latin as a basis to find a name for himself, and smaller still why he chose that particular phrase.

And others.

"Etal?" Ms. Winters asked without looking up from her clipboard.

And the last thing Dib expected was a quiet "Here," from the back of the room.

--

Dib waited until lunch to explode.

"WHERE WERE YOU?!"

And Zim stared at him, unimpressed--as always. "What do you mean, Earthworm?" he asked him, tilting his head to one side with a smirk. "I was never gone."

Dib opened his mouth, then shut it. "If this is some kind of freakish reverse phsycology thing you do on Irk, it isn't going to work," he said finally. Zim scowled at him.

"Why can't you just mind your own buisness," the alien snapped, violet eyes fierce.

Dib was taken aback; not so much hurt as surprised...at how _human_ the alien sounded in that second. "Are you okay?" he asked, surprised to hear his voice was soft. Zim seemed to be at a loss for what to say then; he stared at the gargantuan-headed Earthling before snapping, "Of course, Dib-human! What makes you think I'm not okay?"

_You're using conjuctions, _Dib thought, a wild fear rushing through his mind. _You're making sense. _"...Are you sure you're okay?" he said quietly. Zim glanced at him; for a startling minute, Dib thought the alien was going to confess (to what the boy didn't know). But then those purple eyes glanced away.

"I'm fine, Earthling." But he stared in a troubled way out the window; how did Dib know it was troubled? He wasn't scowling in everyday irritation at the planet he was stuck on. He was just...enigmatic-y.

_An apathetic Zim? _"Hey, um..." Dib rubbed the back of his head. It was so hard to talk to the object of his worry for three days running casually... "I was going to go visit that guy we saved. See if he's doing okay? I dunno why, I'm just worried is all..." Zim watched him expressionlessly, which made it even harder to talk. Why? Dib honestly did not know.

"You did most of the saving, large-headed one," Zim said after an excrutiating pause. "I want nothing more to do with the foul, pathetic creature." Dib frowned. "But I shall accompany you anyway." And then he stopped talking, and returned to prodding at his food. In High Skool, Dib was always immensely happy to report, the food did not move. It was actually pretty good, too. Of course, Zim wouldn't know that, seeing as he _never ate it. _Honestly, the Irken needed to step past hamburgers and waffles. There were better things.

But at the moment, Dib's mind veered away from that train of thought; instead he thought it was incredibly odd that, a) the alien wasn't rambling on in a mad rant to prove his point, and b) he had agreed in the first place.

_I wonder if something's up, _he mused silently, but then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Zim stood, picking up his tray, and Dib followed suit. Amazingly enough, they'd somehow gotten the same classes. Not the same _hours, _of course, but the same class taught by the same teacher--just different times. And after lunch, they both had the same three; Study Hall, Art and Science. Study Hall and Art were the two electives they'd both chosen--Art was a chance to relax, and Study Hall gave them time to work on other, more important things then homework (like a device to destroy the device they _knew _the other was building). Science was a joke. They both could have educated the teacher on much more complex things than they were being taught; but in the end, that made an A easy, so they went along with it.

"After school, then?" Dib asked before they were caught up in the hallway rush.

Zim nodded; and then Dib made his way to Science, while Zim turned in the opposite direction towards Art.

_"I'm fine, Earthling."_

Part Two - End

A/N: Sorry this took forever and a half. . I'm stressing because of my public speaking ordeal tomorrow, and I'm too spazzed-out to write anymore. I hope you enjoyed, anyway! Please review, and flames WILL be ignored and voodoo-ed upon.


	3. Part 3

Part Three -

_"What's going on?"_

Dib glanced sidelong at the alien walking next to him. The little green creature had his hands shoved into his pockets and was staring--almost, but not quite, glaring--at the curb of the sidewalk, face turned away slightly from Dib's. Dib glanced up again, trying to find some topic for conversation. "Er," he said hesitantly; Zim glanced at him, and he took this as encouragement to continue. "How's G.I.R.?"

Zim rolled his eyes, looking ahead now, and said with an age-old grievance, "I find myself wishing I never reactivated the annoying little creature." Dib scowled, but smiled inwardly. He'd begun to notice a measure of affection in the Irken's voice when he spoke of the dysfunctional little android.

"So that's how it is, eh?" Dib nodded with faux polite disinterest. "You could always take him to the junkyard--"

"Foolish mortal," Zim snapped, "why would I give filthy hobos access to advanced Irken technology?"

"They wouldn't know how to use it," Dib pointed out.

"G.I.R.'s not that hard to figure out," Zim retorted, skirting a puddle. Dib quieted--again, the alien just sounded so human it was disconcerting. The people on the sidewalk moved around them, paying them no mind. Zim's odd skin color drew no more attention than Dib's supposedly large head. Dib found himself embarrassed for his species and their obliviousness; it was almost as though they didn't care to the extent of _wanting _to be taken over by a hostile alien army.

The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't necessarily awkward either. Dib cast around for more conversation starters in his head, such as "What're you planning now that's got you so preoccupied", or "Why the hell won't you own up to what's bothering you", but he didn't really want to touch on either. He'd given up completely when Zim said, "Is this the place?"

Dib blinked, surprised to find himself at the hospital's entrance. "Yeah..."

Zim rolled his eyes. "You should really pay more attention when you walk, worm," he muttered, pushing the glass doors open. "It wouldn't do for people to think you're as stupid as they are." Dib stared after him, unsure if that was an insult or a compliment, and startled that the alien had verged upon appraising him at all.

"Come on," Zim snapped impatiently from the hospital's lobby, standing by the front desk.

"R-Right," Dib mumbled, hurrying forward. "Um, excuse me, ma'am?" The blond nurse behind the desk looked up.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling with just the right amount of business-like detachment.

"Um, we were wondering if--That is, we..." Dib frowned at himself for a moment. "A man was brought in a few days ago--hit by a car?"

"Oh, yes, I remember that one," the nurse nodded with a genuine grimace. But then she brightened. "Are you here to see him?"

"Yeah," Dib grinned, glad the conversation was easier to manage.

"Alright, he's on the third floor, room 312." She smiled at them. "Have a nice visit."

Zim marched away immediately, never one for exchanging pleasantries (ever), and headed for the door with a "Stairs" sign on it. "Hold on, Zim," Dib called after him, headed the opposite direction. "Let's take the elevator."

Zim stared at him for a moment, face blank. "I'd rather we took the stairs," he said after a moment, slowly.

Dib scowled, trying not to let himself be dissuaded by the unblinking violet stare. "The elevator's faster," he countered, pressing the Up button next to the elevator doors. Zim continued to gaze unblinkingly at him, before finally joining him as the light above the doors signalled the elevator had reached the ground floor, and the doors slid open with an annoying "ding!". Two of the handful of people stepped out, and swept past Dib and Zim, ignoring them completely; Zim scowled at them, and Dib made a face. When they stepped in, the two remaining women, one a nurse, smiled at them. Dib glanced over to make sure the button for the 3rd floor was lit up, and then leaned against the wall. Missing the presence of the alien beside him, Dib straightened again, turning to look behind him; Zim stood at the back of the elevator, pressing himself into the far corner.

Dib frowned, taking a few steps toward him. "Zim? Are you--"

The lights went out, and the elevator groaned, then shuddered to a stop. Dib frowned and glanced towards the button panel. No emergency lights were blinking; the button for third floor stayed lit up. He looked at Zim who seemed unperturbed, and asked quietly, "What's going on?"

"How should I know?" Dib stared at him. "Nothing's the matter," the alien replied calmly, if not resignedly. "I told you I wanted to take the stairs." Dib raised one eyebrow at him, and the alien rolled his eyes. "My PAK's been acting up," he muttered quietly, moving forward past the frightened women to kneel in front of the buttons panel. He scowled at it, and reached forward. It was too dark to see what he did, even though Dib strained his eyes to; whatever it was, though, had an immediate effect as the lights flickered back on and the elevator resumed it's travel up the shaft. "Happy?" he snapped at Dib when the doors slid open, and, ignoring the women's gushing thanks, the little green creature swept out of the immediate vicinity and was gone.

_Goddammit, _Dib cursed to himself, rushing after him. _I keep pissing him off. _Zim came to a stop at Room 312, and turned to face Dib. "I've accompanied you as I said I would," and he turned away.

Dib's face flushed and he called out, "A-Ah, Zim--"

"I'm not _leaving,_" Zim said quietly, turning back to meet Dib's darker gaze. "I'm simply waiting down the hall, where there are chairs." He waited for a moment, as though to be sure that the human understood his motives, and then turned away again.

Cursing again his stupidity, Dib opened the door and admitted himself in. The man's bed was to the far side, next to the window; the bed closest to the door was empty. Dib skirted it, making his way slowly to the opposite side of the room. What was he supposed to do? A quick, "Hi, howarya?" But he didn't _know _the guy; it'd be weird to be randomly visited by a complete and total stranger who gave no reason for it. And it'd be awkward for him to pop in and say, "Yo, I'm the one who saved you, remember me? No, no, I'm not here to lord your debt to me over you, ha ha..."

Dib would've face-palmed had he been in a more appropriate area; he'd done this completely without thinking. No wonder Zim ditched (not that he wanted to come in the first place...).

He edged around the foot of the bed, peering at the man's face. He was sitting up, but his eyes were closed, his face relaxed. Dib perked up, foolishly allowing himself to be a little hopeful; maybe he was asleep. But just as the thought crossed his mind, the man's eyes slid open and focused at once on Dib. Dib froze, caught--and then, realizing with a start that this time he'd done nothing wrong, he grinned weakly.

"Um...hi," he said slowly, rubbing one arm. "I'm...er, that is, I'm Dib, and...um..."

"Are you the one who saved my life?" the man asked quietly, with a smile. Dib was taken aback. _Right, _he told himself, _the nurses _probably _let him in on a few things. _

"Uh...Yeah. Yeah, that was me...and a friend of mine. Zim's here, he's just...erm... not good with people, s'all..."

The man grinned now, shifting slightly so he could move his pillows into more comfortable positions. "I understand," he said. "I'm not much of a people-person, either." He stretched out a hand. "The name's Tom--Tom Rapier." Dib shook his hand, saying, "Cool last name", and Tom laughed "I get that a lot".

Dib sat down in a chair next to the bed, listening to Tom tell him about various things; walking up in the hopsital to find you can't feel your limbs, slowly getting the feeling back in them (a very painful process), requesting a Big Mac instead of the grey porridge you're fed as a patient. Tom was surprisingly light-hearted about the whole ordeal; he didn't make things awkward by thanking Dib profusely, or by smiling a knowing smile and telling him he was in his debt. He just went on about the joy and wonder of hospital life--Dib completely lost track of time.

"Dib-human." The voice drew Dib's gaze to the doorway, where a very irate Irken stood glaring at him. "I understand your need for useless babble, but I've things to attend to at home. I like to think that I've waited _quite _patiently for the last two hours, and, by extension, that I am completely justified in telling you to _hurry up __**now, **_or you will find yourself without a companion for the walk back home."

The anger in his voice compelled Dib to standing at once. "I-I'll be right there!" he called hastily when the alien swept away. He turned and made an apologetic face at Tom. "That was Zim just now; he's the one who was with me when you..." Dib cleared his throat. "Anyway, I have to go."

Tom nodded, smiling. "So I see; thanks for the visit."

Dib grinned. "Expect more--maybe I'll drag Zim in next time."

_And maybe the moon is made out of cheese._

--

Zim was _not _a happy Invader, and it was mostly Dib's fault. They strode down the sidewalk in silence, both going over different thoughts. Suddenly, something in Zim's bag beeped; he frowned, sliding what looked like a cellphone out of the topmost pocket. "G.I.R.," he said, putting it to his ear, "what have I told you about--Eh? They..._now? _They're half an hour early!" Zim stopped walking, an incredulous expression on his face. "Can you--_yes! _Stall! Good boy!" He hung up, sliding the 'phone' back into place, turned around, and abruptly broke into a run.

_He sure can run..._Dib, panting, followed after the alien, all the way to his base. Zim ran up the path without bothering to deactivate the gnomes; he knew his lawn well enough to avoid all the blasts. Dib just followed, doing the best he could, and miraculously came out unscathed. He shut the door behind him when he entered the base, and saw G.I.R. dancing on his head with a rubber moose before Zim grabbed him and dragged him off to the side.

"My Tallest," Zim said, standing at attention in front of the screen that had replaced the picture of the angry monkey; G.I.R. trotted over to stand beside him, chewing on his moose. "Sorry for the delay." The Tallest stared at him for a moment, and at G.I.R., who was pulling tacos from his head to devour.

"You know, Zim," Purple said suddenly, waving his soda, "I'm surprised you haven't gotten rid of that little S.I.R. yet. It does you absolutely no good. Anyone else would've trashed it." Dib bristled; he was too far off to the side for them to see him so they didn't know he was standing there, and he was _this close _to speaking up by telling them to shut the fuck up and leave harmless little robots alone.

He didn't, though.

"G.I.R.," Zim corrected at once; Dib _swore _he saw those purple eyes flash. "And how could I throw out the advanced technology bestowed upon me by my Tallest?"

Purple snickered, and Red said, "True...Anyway, Zim, we thought we'd..." And here Dib lost interest in the conversation. He glanced around for G.I.R., tossing his bag onto the floor, and then sat down on the floor to play with him. Though the little android was metal, unfeeling, he responded somehow to touch, and, like any human pet, loved affection. So Dib smiled, rubbing the robot's head, and G.I.R. giggled contentedly.

Zim glanced over his shoulder, scowling; then his eyes fell on a happy G.I.R., being pet by a grinning Dib, and his sharp eyes softened ever so slightly.

--

Dib shouldered his bag as he stepped onto the porch, saying, "I'm sorry I took so long at the hospital, Zim. I--"

"Let it go, Earthenoid," the Irken cut him off, waving a hand. "I've bigger matters to attend to, now. Be gone with you." G.I.R. was standing by the door, waving frantically.

"Byeee, Mary!!" the bot screamed, waving frantically. Zim reached up to a control panel just inside the door and pulled down a heavy latch. "The gnomes are down," he told the human, "so hurry up." Dib trotted down the walk, trying not to look at the gnomes as he did. When he reached the sidewalk, he turned to wave at Zim, but paused; the Irken was kneeling, impatiently trying to fix a leash around an over-excited G.I.R.'s collar and having limited success. G.I.R. was bounding around happily, screaming about goin' to get some tacoooosss at the top of his lungs.

_He has it easy, _Dib thought as he made his way home. It was dark by now, the stars were out, and he would undoubtedly get a long rant from his sister when he arrived. He kept thinking about G.I.R., and how close he kept to Zim; even though Zim shouted at him a lot, and seemed to loose patience quickly, there was something G.I.R. could see no one else could. He could see through his master's false anger, through his worries and his fears. He was one of the few Zim would allow to be near--one of the few Zim would talk with, explain things to.

Dib trotted up the walkway to his house, digging around in his pocket for the key to the front door. When he pushed it open, he heard the TV going in the living room; silently, he shut it behind him, grabbed an apple from the counter, and rushed upstairs. Once he was safely in his room, he tossed his bag down and flopped onto his bed, munching on the fruit.

They were just like family. Zim and G.I.R., that is. G.I.R., like a child looking up to his older brother, unquestioningly put all his faith into Zim--and Zim unquestioningly shouldered the responsibility of that faith, even if he did complain a lot about it.

_I wonder...will I ever have someone like that? _Dib rolled onto his side, facing the window. _Will I ever have someone I can trust so whole-heartedly, without a doubt?_

_"How should I know?"_

Part 3 - End

A/N: Good god, I finally battled my way through this one. You have no idea how hard this was to get done; for no other reason than the fact that I have major Writer's Block on _everything. _I know it sucked, cause it was choppy and rushed and all, but please review! (And I'm a good flame-ignorer, so just save your energy for someone who'll care.)


	4. Part 4

Part Four -

_"They cast you out."_

When Zim came to school the next day, he looked pale. Dib watched his movements carefully, in case they gave something away. Zim moved like his entire body was stiff, or sore; he sank slowly into his chair, and Dib realized at once what it was; Zim was tired. He didn't look it at first glance, because his caution made him careful, but his eyes gave him away.

The alien slid his arms onto his desk, folding them tightly to make a pillow of sorts, and laid his head down. He sighed, and Dib suddenly felt very small. _How long has he been this tired? _Dib thought furiously, turning his gaze forward so no one else got suspicious. _Do Irkens even need sleep? _He resolved to ask Zim at lunch, and doodled to distract himself before he imploded.

When Dib walked into the food court later that day, he immediately found Zim half-asleep at a table outside; he found this odd. Normally Zim "ate" inside. He didn't bother buying food that he wasn't going to eat and instead made his way to Zim, sliding onto the opposite bench to sit in front of him.

"Zim," he said firmly, folding his arms on the table. "Oy, look at me."

Zim scowled, and raised stunning purple eyes to Dib's gold ones. "You don't command me," he growled softly, none of the usual enthusiasm in his voice.

Rather than touch that subject, Dib said, "Why are you out here? You _never _eat outside."

Zim looked around him for a moment, almost as if he was surprised to find himself outdoors. Then he said, "I'm tired of looking at walls." He glanced over Dib's shoulder without moving, eyes weary. "I'm tired of looking at dirty streets, and empty buildings, and abandoned cats. I'm tired of all the mindless noise." He put his head down in his arms again, looking small. "I can't stand the noise."

"Zim?" Dib was concerned now. He risked a glance at Zim's tray; the alien hadn't even bothered trying to keep up the appearance of eating, had only grabbed a few items at random from the look of it.

"I'm tired of Earth," came the muffled voice. Zim fingers rubbed at his arms, as though warming them. "I _hate _Earth. I just want to go home."

Dib was shocked at his words; Zim had never come close to considering even _mentioning _the thought of abandoning his goal of conquest. He always put on a stubborn front, and demanded compliance with his Tallests' orders, whatever they were. The last conversation Zim had had with his Tallest, though--one of the few Dib had been present for--was a rather brusque one. The Tallest were the ones doing most of the talking, Zim answering them only when asked a direct question, and even then in a slightly detached way.

And the human had also not given a thought to the rest of Zim's situation; cast out of the world he knew, to live in--from an alien's perspective--an insane and rundown little Earth, with no allies, family or friends but a dysfunctional little android....Dib would have been lost, but somehow Zim had managed to throw down roots and survive.

He didn't know what to say--but at that moment the bell rang. "Time to go to class," Dib said, standing; he watched Zim sigh and pick himself up. He started away without a word, leaving Dib staring after him, wondering just what exactly was happening with the world's

---

As the school's final bell rang, the children ran out into the lawn; someone had brought a boom box, and was playing an upbeat hiphop song, one that had everyone dancing along. Dib found himself swaying a bit to the beat, and then caught himself looking for Zim.

Zim was watching with something akin to amusment, though he didn't join in. Nothing about him gave any indication that he liked the music everyone else loved, and after a moment, he put his hands in his pockets and started away.

Frowning, Dib memorized a few words of the song so he could look it up later, and started after the alien. When he'd reached him, Zim spared him a glance. "Why don't you stay?" the Invader questioned him. "You seemed to enjoy the music."

_Got me there. _"I can just download it when I get home."

Zim frowned. "But wouldn't it be more fun for you to dance here, with everyone else?"

Dib almost laughed, but caught himself at the absolute geniune question in Zim's eyes. "Well...Zim, they _hate _me." He was matter-of-fact about it, because it was something he'd gotten used to _years _ago, but the surprise evident in Zim's expression caught him off-guard. "They've hated me since grade school."

"Why?"

"...I'm _different _from them, Zim." Dib was lost; he'd never had to explain this to anyone before. "When you're different, you don't fit in." Zim watched him for a moment, eyes calculative. Then he transferred his gaze to the crowd in front of the school. Something was frightening about his eyes then.

"On Irk," Zim said suddenly, carefully, "everyone is the same. They think more or less the same as well, because of these." He tilted his head back a bit, indicating his PAK. "Of course, there are always a few odd ones, like myself; but for the most part no one is different. So to some extent, no one's excluded from anything just because of who they are." Here he struggled to find the right words. "I find it strange that humans cast one of their own out for thinking a little differently."

"They cast _you _out," Dib retorted, feeling strange.

Zim's gaze met his squarely. "I'm not one of them. It's to be expected."

---

As they were walking, Dib was aware of the stares. People, girls mostly, were watching them with the oddest expressions; Dib frowned, and glanced at Zim to see if he'd noticed--and realized that he was the one everyone was staring at. He walked with a feline grace, his lanky form slender and lithe; his skin was flawless, the lightest, palest green--it had changed a lot over the course of a few years on Earth--Dib wondered if maybe it had to do with the planet's sun. And then, of course, his eyes; while not quite as impressive as the scarlet that lay hidden behind the purple contacts, his eyes were fathomless and clear. His self in general screamed of confidence and self-surence--like nothing and no one could ever touch him.

_It's intimidating, walking beside him. _Dib averted his eyes.

"Here." Dib glanced up at the alien's abrupt stop, and found himself in front of a little smoothie cafe he hadn't known existed before. In contrast to the dark and dirty buildings on either side of it, it was well-kept and clean, the windows gleaming in the afternoon sun. Zim started in at once, leaving Dib to follow him with much confusion.

A woman was cleaning the counter, and glanced up when they walked in. "Zim?" She smiled warmly. "It's so good to see you! You haven't been in in days."

"Yeah," Zim shrugged, "I've been busy. This is Dib Membrane." He gestured back at the human; at the question in the woman's eyes, he continued, "He's a friend from school, the one I told you about." The lies rolled easily off his tongue; Dib said nothing.

"It's very nice to meet you," the lady said, reaching over the counter to shake his hand as Zim wandered away. He was startled at her warmth to a person she'd only just met, and took her hand mutely. "I'm Mrs. Anne Rapier, but I hope you'll call me Anne."

Dib froze; "Rapier?" he questioned softly. "Um...Do you know Tom Rapier?"

"Of course," she laughed, "he's my husband. He'll be getting out of the hospital soon. He told me you went to visit him, and I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"Anne," Zim called from the far side of the counter. "I haven't tried this one yet." He pointed at a picture of a strawberry fruit smoothie on the laminated menu, and glanced up at her expectantly. Five minutes later found him sipping his smoothie at the counter while Anne and Dib discussed random things of little importance; Dib mused over how easy it was to talk to both Tom _and _Anne, and how amazing it was that the two had found each other in this drab little world.

When they were ready to leave, and Anne asked Zim how his drink was, he replied, "Best so far," and let it go at that, both a compliment and a farewell, because he turned and left without another word. Dib blinked, but Anne didn't seem surprised. "He's a good kid," she confided in Dib. "Just a little rough around the edges. I'm glad to have met you; I've been worried for awhile, when he kept coming in alone." Dib was silent for a second, then thanked her and trotted after the green Irken.

"I never knew you liked smoothies," Dib told him, folding his arms. "That's so human of you."

Zim smirked at him as they exited the shop. "It's hard pretending sometimes," he retorted, and then frowned at his empty cup. He tossed it into a recycling bin on their way past it, and at Dib's raised eyebrow said, "Your planet needs all the help it can get."

"Zim, how did you know about Tom's wife?"

"I may be a worthless Invader, but I am a trained one." He pretended not to notice Dib's widening eyes at his words. "I have my ways of gathering information. Of course I did research on the person whose life I helped preserve. Someone needed to contact his family, and your..._hospitals _are incredibly worthless."

Dib had to agree; anything ran by adults was completely unreliable. But Zim's words shocked him--stunned him, really. What happened to that irritating pride? That contempt for anything un-Irk, and the self-indulgence that made up half the reason Dib had wanted him gone?

"How did you know he had family?"

"Everyone on this planet has family. You earthlings breed like gutter rats."

---

Dib found himself following Zim up the walk and into the Base again, and Zim didn't protest; or maybe he just didn't really notice the oddity. He seemed detached, zoned out to a whole other plane. G.I.R. greeted them enthusiastically, attaching himself to his master's leg. Zim patted his head absently and told him to go play with the "gutter rat" while he contacted the Tallest.

_Great, _Dib thought, scowling. _Another friendly name. _But soon G.I.R. was bringing him all kinds of toys, and he was immersed in playing with the android, if only to keep it calm. He kept an eye on Zim, though, who was talking quietly with his world's leaders.

"No, my Tallest," he would say. "Yes, my Tallest." "I'll check, my Tallest." His replies were short and respectful. And then one of the aliens on the screen would say something off-handedly, probably with no intention of envoking any kind of specific reaction, and Zim would stiffen. Everything about him would change in that moment, until suddenly Dib felt like he was in the home of a hostile alien invader, come to harvest the planet; it was a scary feeling, one he'd never expected to feel from Zim, of all people. And then Zim would relax and says, "Perhaps." His _Tallest _noticed nothing.

When Zim turned off the monitor, he stood for a moment facing the wall. G.I.R. stood and walked slowly to him, putting his paws on Zim's front and staring up at him with those huge round eyes. "Master's sad?"

"Of course not! The Almighty Zim would never be _sad,_" and he said it with an impossibly huge and self-satisfied smirk, which made G.I.R. giggle shrilly and bounce off somewhere. Zim's smile faded when G.I.R. was out of sight, and he sighed quietly. Looking at Dib, he said, "Did you hear much of that?"

"No, just your half of the conversation..."

"Oh. Good. Be gone with you, I've got work to do." Zim dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and turned to the kitchen, obviously to head down to the lab.

"Er..." Dib hesitated at the door. "You seemed tired today."

Zim turned to look at him, eyes fathomless and searching. Then he turned away and scoffed, "Nonsense."

As Dib walked down the path (why were the gnomes still deactivated?) he thought about Zim's cryptic behavior. What was going on? Zim seemed no less certain of himself, but something had definitely changed. He was less proud--hardly proud--and less motivated. He was tired of Earth (and who wouldn't be) but the way he'd said it back then--_"I just want to go home"--_it was with a heavy, bitter denial. Even if he should get the chance to, there was something keeping him here, and that made him unhappy.

For an alien to be tied down to a planet it was sent to invade, something was off.

---

Dib was trying to think of a tactful way to interrogate the alien; it came in the form of Zim himself, the next day at school. He had a bandage on the right side of his face, from under his eye to the bottom of his face. He seemed every bit as disinterested in the world around him as he did yesterday, and he gave off a constant "don't-talk-to-me vibe" that had kids keeping their distance, so he was left alone about it--until lunch, of course, when Dib finally got the chance to ask his questions. Zim seemed to have braced himself for it, though, and was waiting for him to arrive at his table.

"What happened to your face?" Dib asked bluntly, pointing to the bandage.

"Most humans start with a hello," Zim replied, but continued before Dib could comment on that. "I had a mishappening."

"Oh?" Dib raised one eyebrow.

"Yes. Why am I explaining myself to you, little dirt-monkey?" His smirk was familiar, and Dib was surprised that he missed it.

"Zim, yesterday--you said you wanted to go home, and--"

Zim's grin faded, and he said quietly, "Yesterday was yesterday."

"Could you answer at least one of my questions?"

"I could."

"....Will you?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"The question, of course."

_Of course. _"What kind of mishappening was it?"

Zim leaned back in his chair, thinking. About what to say or how to explain it, Dib was unsure; he hoped it was the latter--he didn't want to be lied to anymore. Finally, the Irken said, "Oftentims, experimentation with alien substances can be hazardous if one does not know their properties."

"So you were testing stuff?"

"Sure."

Dib wanted to ask more about it, but at the same time didn't want to press his luck. Zim seemed agreeable today, and Dib didn't want to mess anything up. Still..."You're okay, then," he couldn't help but press.

Zim smirked lazily. "I'll survive."

For some reason, Dib didn't believe him. He said nothing else, though, and walked around the table to sit down next to him. Zim pushed his tray of food over to him; "Mortals need such nutrients as these," were his words. Zim was being kind today, in his own way; Dib didn't know why, and that scared him. Nevertheless, he picked up a bag of chips and pulled it open.

"Hey, Dib!" an unfamiliar and unfriendly voice called from nearby; Dib chose to ignore it, while Zim looked around. A couple basketball players were leering at them as they walked by with their trays. "Finally got yourself a lunch date, eh? Always thought you'd need a boyfriend!"

_That's going just a tad bit too far, _Dib thought, though his face revealed nothing. Zim watched them go, and turned to Dib in confusion. "What did they mean by that?" came his question. Dib winced, having hoped the inevitable question wouldn't come; he smiled weakly at the alien, dreading the explanation that would follow.

_"It's to be expected."_

Part Four - End


	5. Part 5

Part Five -

_"Well?"_

Zim seemed to think it was amusing that he-worms had to mate with she-worms to be considered normal. Dib didn't know how to explain it any better than, "Guys go out with girls, okay?" Zim didn't understand how violent the stupid earthlings could be; how hurtful they could be towards anything even the slightest bit different. Dib glanced at the Irken. Zim was _very _different, but no one could touch him.

Zim was musing aloud. "So, when two male humans or two female humans have feelings for each other, they ignore it?"

Dib shook his head. "Not all the time. Sometimes they see each other in secret."

"How ridiculous." Zim shook his head, and picked up his fork from the tray. He prodded at some macaroni, thinking again. "It's different on Irk."

"I'll bet," Dib said, watching him. He could hear the two jocks from before laughing at a table farther away, somewhere behind them, and sighed. He missed junior high; his class had gotten along for the most part. But once everyone entered High Skool, popularity and appearance became the most important things. People drifted apart, cliques were formed. It was sad to watch, really.

"Do they realize how pathetic they are?" Zim said suddenly, eyes narrowing at the students milling around the school yard. "Do they understand how stupid they are?"

"No," Dib surrendered with a sigh. "No, they don't."

Zim's eyes moved to meet his. "And yet you find they're worth saving?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because," Dib said, and found he didn't know what to say. "Because..." He could feel Zim's unblinking stare boring into him and he bit his lip.

_Why? It's not like the human race has proved itself worthy to stay alive--I mean, there's an alien in their midst, there've been so many signs and warnings, but they completely disregard them. Everyone lives in their own little world, they never stop to think or to just take a look around. They're so stupid, like little fucking children, and... Oh... _

"The human race is a young species, Zim. We haven't been around very long. We have to make mistakes to learn by them...but I'm sure we'll learn by them eventually. It'll just take some time...y'know, we gotta grow. If we're destroyed now, that'll never happen."

Zim didn't say anything for a moment, apparently thinking it over. "So you feel that if humans are left alone long enough, they'll somehow get smarter?"

Dib blinked. "Uhh...well--"

"They're stupid. It's a miracle they haven't wiped themselves out yet."

"'They'? Zim, I'm a human too. We're not all stupid. There'll always be a few of us who know better, and when the time comes we'll do what we can to prevent our world from imploding in itself or being destroyed by invaders from another planet galaxies away."

"How valiant of you," Zim said. His voice was different now; haughty and unimpressed. "I regret stepping foot on this rock. I can feel it dying all around me, _screaming _for help but to deaf ears. You want to save your pathetic race? That's wonderful. I guess it's what every even remotely intelligent being would think. Loyalty to the clan, right?" And he turned on the bench, stood, and walked away.

_Dammit..._The brunet ran his fingers through his hair. _Why do I _always _say something to piss him off? _He thought about going after him, then shook his head. At the end of the day, Zim would be calmer. Dib would wait till then and see how things went....

_I didn't use to care. Huh...I wonder what happened..._

---

He cursed with every step down the hall. The damn art teacher kept him after to finish a project he'd done wrong, and it took a little over an hour to complete. He was covered in blue paint and pissed off as he slammed the front doors open and stomped down the steps. The grounds were depressingly empty; he'd wanted to talk to Zim before the Invader went home. Goddammit.

He sighed, hitching his bag higher over his shoulder, and started home. Halfway there, something overtook him and he changed directions; when he stopped, he found himself in front of Zim's base. It was eerily quiet. Bypassing his better judgment (his head was screaming, "What the hell are you doing?! Get the hell out of there, dammit!"), he made his way up the walk and to the door. He thought better of knocking, and pushed it open slowly.

The room was very quiet; no lights were on, but the TV was. It cast a flickering glow, and Dib almost ran through to the kitchen. He looked around, at a loss. "Zim?" he called, uncertainly. When he got no immediate response, he took a few steps forward, peering around. He opened the lid of the trash can, peering down the telltale tunnel that would lead him to the lab. He'd gone down there plenty of times, so he knew the drill. The elevator was tube-like and the darkness left him feeling claustrophobic, though he normally didn't have any problems with dark or confined places--he reasoned it out to be misplaced anxiety, and when the elevator came to a smooth stop, he stepped out.

It took a few minutes for him to react--when he did, panic seized ahold of him and he cried out, rushing forward. "Zim?!" The alien was still, lying on the floor of his lab in front of the familiar monitor. He had a small vial clutched in one of his hands, and his body was feverish. Dib grabbed his wrist and forced the vial out of his hand, watching it roll away and drip a clear substance onto the metal floor. He returned his attention to the creature in his arms, bright red eyes blinking open.

"Gutter rat..."

"Another mishappening, huh?"

"You could...say that..."

Dib helped him to sit up, forcing his mind to slow down. "You wanna share?"

"No."

_I thought as much. _His mouth set grimly, he sat back on his heels and looked the alien up and down. Zim was breathing deeply, looking only slightly disheveled and for the most part unbothered. He looked down at his gloved hand, flexing his fingers. Then he stood, moving seamlessly back to his large computer. Dib scowled and stalked after him; it seemed like common sense to the human to _not move around _after passing out because of some chemical experiment. The alien, however, seemed not to think so.

When Zim began to tap away at the keyboard, Dib sighed and glanced around the room. So much other-worldly equipment and alien machinery; once upon a time, he'd've leaped on this opportunity--an opportunity to get ahead, to learn more about Earth's threat in order to one day destroy him. Now, though, his gaze was almost disinterested; those years in middle school seemed fun now that he looked back on them. It was so fascinating; all of it--Zim, his base, his technology. Dib could hardly wait to get school every day, excited and anticipating Zim's next move.

It was like one big, high-stakes game of chess.

But now it was more like a job, a goal he was beginning to lose sight of. When did chasing Zim down become a chore instead of a joy? When did Zim's schemes get less crazy, his rants less heartfelt? It's like those years of nonstop struggle had been nothing more than just a prelude; the beginning, the start of something, and Dib had no clue what of.

It was a battle no one was winning--and Dib was tired.

The elevator door hissed open suddenly, and Dib was startled from his thoughts. G.I.R. bounded into the room with much enthusiasm for so late in the evening, and Dib wondered where he'd been napping.

"Hi, Mary!" the bot chirped, attaching itself to its master's leg. It seemed to find nothing odd about the human's presence in the laboratory. He peered up at Zim, saying, "The angry monkey's on!"

"Lead the way," Zim said in an authoritative tone; the android giggled, saluted, and raced back the way it came. When it was gone, Zim sighed almost inaudibly and turned to Dib. "Are you staying?"

Dib blinked; an invitation? Zim had never asked him to stay, or even to come over; Dib had always just kind of trailed along and stuck around. But now the alien was regarding him with impassive red eyes, waiting for the human to make his move.

"Well?"

It was almost like chess, and Dib bit back a smile.

"Sure."

---

The television was still on, but he'd muted the volume. The room flickered, shadows dancing around the edges of the walls as silent commercials moved across the screen. Zim's gaze was focused on the TV, but he wasn't seeing it. He was aware of the two on the couch with him, and after a moment turned his head to regard them.

G.I.R., who fell fast asleep only five minutes into his favorite show, was lying on Dib's lap, using the human's knee as a pillow; and Dib's head had fallen against Zim's shoulder, the brunet sleeping just as soundly as the robot in his lap, despite being in an alien invader's base of operations.

Zim watched them both sleep, thoughts swirling behind a mask of calm and certainty. He brought a hand up slowly to brush the hair gently back from Dib's face, masking the gesture by removing his glasses in the same motion, laying them aside, out of harm's way.

He sat silently then, alone once again without anything more to distract from the thoughts threatening to consume him.

He wished the Tallest wouldn't call back.

_"Sure."_

Part Five - End

A/N: Sorry I dropped off the face of the planet for awhile, there. Not only is Writer's Block threatening to destroy all I know and love, but my grades have reached a record low, which, needless to say, complicates things a bit. I hate complications...


	6. Part 6

Part Six -

_"What?"_

Morning was an interesting affair. Dib, upon discovering he'd more or less slept on Zim all night long, was on his feet at once (G.I.R. dumped unceremoniously to the floor in the process), his face an impressive shade of red as he shouted a long string of apologies.

The alien watched him with an expression akin to dry amusement as he rotated his shoulder, and once Dib had run himself out of words he said calmly, "It's nothing to lose your head over." Then he got up to reposition G.I.R. on the couch, where the little android continued to sleep through the proceedings peacefully, and wandered into the kitchen - leaving Dib to stand there staring after him, bewildered.

_I don't get it, _he thought, confused. _Random things I might say without thinking will set him off easily - and this doesn't in the slightest? _After another moment of contemplation, he shook his head and let it go for the time being - it was just another thing to add to the growing list of what he didn't understand about the Irken. He noticed his glasses folded neatly on the arm of the couch and slid them on.

As he hunted down his jacket, keeping an eye on the kitchen, he thought, _Still...Zim must've been just sitting there for hours. _He frowned, a little perplexed.

"Human."

The voice made Dib start and spin around almost guiltily, train of thought abruptly derailed. The alien raised an eyebrow at him, and Dib realized he'd gone to put on his human "disguise." To give Zim credit, it had gotten a little better over the years. Nothing about the disguise in itself had changed, really, but Zim could act more human when he needed to, and that made all the difference.

Dib couldn't figure out why that bothered him.

He tried telling himself at first that it was because Zim was blending into the Earth scene all too well - he hadn't seemed like much of a threat in his early days because he stuck out rather sorely; but now that he didn't, surely that would make his job as an Invader that much easier.

And maybe that was why seeing Zim act so _human _troubled him -

He couldn't fool himself into thinking so.

The gloomy weather had yet to dissipate; when the two of them stepped outside, the day was dull and the sky was gray with clouds. Dib shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around him, before casting a skeptical look in Zim's direction; the Irken was garbed in his usual apparel, with the addition of a thin coat that fell past his waist.

"You ought to invest in some jeans," Dib said, earning himself a blank stare. "You know, regular clothes? You wear the same thing all the time."

Zim glanced down at his Irken uniform. He was silent for a moment, leaving Dib wondering (as he always seemed to wonder nowadays) what he was thinking. Finally, those violet eyes glanced up again and Zim said, "Regular clothes, huh?" There was note of definite amusement in his voice, but he didn't say anything else and Dib took his que to keep quiet.

It was a school day, but Zim wasn't going, simply, he'd said, because he didn't want to. Dib walked with him in silence for awhile, until they reached the street he would have to turn off on to get to the high school, when he finally announced that he would be skipping too. Zim had glanced at him; but he must have looked particularly stubborn, because the alien offered no argument and Dib proceeded to accompany him to Anne's cafe, feeling victorious.

At first, when they arrived in front of the little shop, he didn't think it'd be open. The lights were on, but the sign inside the door that swung against the glass still read "Closed". Nevertheless, Zim knocked twice before letting himself in, a stunned Dib following suit; the little bell above the door announced them. They'd made it to the counter when Anne emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

Dib expected to recieve some kind of rebuke, but instead he and Zim were greeted warmly. "Hey, you," she said to Zim, who merely waved her off. Unfazed, she turned her smile on Dib and said, "And it's nice to see you again, too. Sit tight, I'll bring you guys some breakfast."

"You sit," Zim retorted, "I'm capable of getting it myself."

"Zim," Dib said, surprised at him. Not so much at his rudeness - Zim just came that way - but at the fact that he ordering the woman around her own store.

_Alright, maybe that shouldn't really be surprising._

Dib glanced at Anne, in the peculiar position of preparing to defend someone very obviously in the wrong. But she caught his eye and grinned, and beckoned him to join her at one of the circular tables. The two of them watched Zim rummage through the pastries in the glass case under the counter, and Dib felt compelled to say, "He doesn't mean things the way they sound half the time. He just doesn't know how to...er...soften the blow."

_...Since when do I defend him? _

"I'm not going to yell at him," Anne said, looking amused.

Zim made his way over and dumped an armful of what could be considered breakfast food onto the table. "The money's in the register," he informed Anne, sliding into the seat across from the two of them.

Dib raised an eyebrow at him. "Money? When did you get money?"

Zim didn't spare him a glance as he poked a straw through the top of a juice box. "I get money when I get paid, Dib-human," he said, the shadow of a smirk flitting across his face.

Dib, for some reason, flushed at the senseless insult (if it could really be called one) and might have hurried on with another question if he hadn't caught the smile Anne quickly hid behind her hand. "...What?" he asked warily.

"Nothing," she said at once, rising smoothly. "You boys enjoy your breakfast, I've got to finish getting set up in the kitchen if I want to open on time today."

Dib watched her go, nonplussed. He glanced over at Zim, who was playing with a piece of coffee cake. He wasn't sure if the alien had noticed that small exchange, so he moved on, asking, "Isn't she going to tell us off for not going to school?"

"No. She can't make us do anything, and she knows there's no sense in going if you're not willing to learn."

"Oh... That _does _make sense, though. Most adults are just too stubborn to admit the system's not fool-proof and _insist _upon forcing kids to school, even if its just to stare blankly at a wall for eight hours."

"It's a relief to know there's still some variety amongst you humans yet," the Irken drawled. "It was beginning to look like you all thought the same - with just a few exceptions of course."

Dib glanced up. "Exceptions?"

Zim's smirk was pronounced now. "There are always exceptions."

_"Nothing."_

_Part Six - End_

(A/N: I'm so sorry this is extremely late. And pretty short too. But...yeah. No excuses. I really am sorry. ;_;)


	7. Part 7

_Part Seven - _

_"Let's go."_

Zim stepped out of the dressing room in a T-shirt and jeans, looking bemused, and it took every ounce of Dib's will-power not to laugh.

He never thought he'd one day choose to skip school and go shopping with an alien invader, much less that he'd have fun doing it; but now the alien was staring at him, arms lifted like the clothes were some sort of unattractive slime that had attached itself to his person and Dib managed to cough into his fist and adopt an earnest expression before the bemused expression on the Irken's face could become a suspicious one.

"This?" Zim asked, looking skeptical.

Dib smiled before he could help it. "Yeah, that. It's how kids on earth dress- you should've tried it a long time ago."

"'Should've'," Zim murmured quietly, tugging at the waistband of the jeans. Dib couldn't help but notice how well they hugged his tiny waist.

And before the thought could become embarrassing it became concerned.

_Is he losing weight?_

He hesitated, as Zim turned back into the dressing room; when the alien reemerged, Dib didn't bring it up.

In a few hours' time, Zim had a new wardrobe consisting mainly of jeans- not blue ones, either, some red but mostly a burnt pink color Dib had never seen before that Zim really seemed to take to- and brightly colored shirts.

Dib just stood back and watched him, unable to keep a slight smile off his face. Zim looked so much like a child as he pulled his arms through a purple hoodie- not smiling, but not scowling when he surveyed himself in the mirror, zipping it up halfway and pausing.

Dib came up behind him and Zim's eyes flickered, glancing into his reflection's face.

"Looks good," Dib said encouragingly, and surprised himself by meaning it.

_But he does. He looks- he looks _really _good. _

Zim didn't say anything, not that Dib expected him to; he helped the Irken carry his clothes up to the check out counter, hung back and wondered where Zim worked as he pulled out what looked like a debit card to pay for it all, and then gathered up half of the shopping bags and followed Zim home.

On the way, Zim stopped to pull on the hoodie, zipping it up carefully halfway. And something about the tiny alien, not smiling or scowling as he curled his gloved fingers around the sleeves, so colorful in such a dark place, with his skin and eyes and sweatshirt, made Dib smile.

"Really. It looks good."

* * *

When they got to the base, G.I.R. was waiting for them by the front door. Zim set some bags down by the door to pat its head when it shrieked gleefully at him. Dib set his down on the couch, and the little android jumped up to nose through them curiously, humming something cute- and he _had _to reach over and rub its head.

_Really. Such a terrible costume. _The green and black disguise was pathetic but- it worked somehow, for G.I.R. And Zim, who was blending in more and more with Earth's population these days, must have realized it was an awful disguise himself by now, he _must _have.

_But he didn't change it. _Dib's smile widened. _I'm glad he didn't change it. _

"Hey Zim," he said, glancing up. "Why don't you try on some of your new clothes, and we can go to Anne's for lunch? I bet she'd like to see them."

Zim just _looked _at him, and Dib bit back a grin at the incredulousness in his expression. But G.I.R. cheered, and Dib got the feeling Zim just couldn't say no to both of them- or maybe that was just wishful thinking. One way or another, Zim snatched a bag, cast them a haughty look, and stalked down the hall.

Dib high-fived G.I.R., who didn't understand and giggled shrilly, and sat back to wait.

It was amazing that Zim's base could feel like home. Amazing that he could think of Zim like a friend- and skip school to pick out clothes with him and actually _enjoy _himself doing it- but maybe it wasn't really.

Zim was the one he shared most of his life with, the things that prompted the other kids to call him a freak, the things that no one else believed in.

Zim, who introduced him to other worlds. Zim, who treated him like an equal by treating him like a legitimate threat.

Zim, who was coming down the hallway still tugging on a boot- those he hadn't replaced, no matter how hard Dib tried to get him to look at the sneakers- and looking so human in burnt-pink jeans and a blue T-shirt, hoodie draped over his arm.

Zim, who glanced up at him with uncertainy in his eyes for just a moment as he straightened, looking like a normal teenaged boy with messy black hair and a strange tone to his skin.

Dib closed his eyes and didn't think. He refused to. When he opened them again, Zim was staring at him, hoodie on and zipped appropriately, PAK in place. Dib let himself focus on that instead of the direction his thoughts might have turned if he'd let them; he wondered how Zim managed to wear the PAK outside his hoodie without ruining it, but didn't think he'd ask.

"Dib."

The human blinked up, and found Zim waiting by the front door.

"Let's go."

The world fell out from beneath his feet, even as he trotted to catch up.

"Right behind you."

_He called me Dib._

* * *

Anne saw them and _shrieked. _

"Zim! You got new clothes! They look absolutely _darling _on you!"

Zim turned around promptly and started back out the door. Dib caught him around the shoulders, glad for an excuse to touch him, and grinned at the glare the alien threw his way.

Anne rushed around the counter to grab him by the shoulders and look him up and down, looking beside herself. "Zim, really, you look fantastic. I love your sweatshirt, it matches your eyes! Purple and pink really seem to be your colors."

Looking unhappy at the attention, but not unhappy at the direction it was taking, Zim scoffed and stuck his (always gloved) hands in his pockets.

The contempt faded from his face and the smile faded from Dib's when Anne pulled Zim into a hug and kept him there.

"Anne, is...everything okay?" Dib ventured cautiously, not liking the way she was clinging to Zim as though he was her lifeline. A sudden thought occurred to him and he froze. "Is it- Tom?"

She gave a watery laugh and pulled back from Zim, wiping her eyes. Zim stood staring at her, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion the way Dib hadn't seen them do since junior high.

His gleefull thought of _He's coming back! _was short-lived, because Anne was saying, "Oh, no, dear- Tom's just fine, I'm sorry I scared you- "

"Then how about you?"

Zim's voice was the same uninterested drawl it had been lately- but there was an undercurrent of strength and intuition that Dib had missed _so _much, tucked in under the detachment.

Anne stared at him, and Dib liked that she didn't look surprised at Zim's leap of logic. But the approval was detached and faraway, because she hadn't answered yet.

"Anne," he said, disbelieving. "You're okay, right?"

She looked away, and the world kept falling.

_"Right behind you."_

_Part Seven - End_

A/N: DON'T WORRY, Anne is a side-character that will remain a side-character. I don't want to focus entirely on Zim's conundrum, because then the story will be told too quickly. Besides, I like Anne. :(

I'm sorry it's taken so unbelievably long to update. And that it's short. Thanks for reading!


	8. Part 8

Part Eight -_  
"You've done so much."_

Zim could move pretty fast for someone so small. He stormed out of the cafe with all the fury of a tornado, and left Dim to scurry after him, casting a glance back through the slamming glass door at Anne-

who was standing where they'd left her, arms folded tightly, looking so sad. Dib almost felt bad for leaving her, until he glanced ahead at a pair of small shoulders, hunched tightly in anger and hurt, and jogged to catch up.

_Looks like I know where my allegiances lie._

And somehow it wasn't terrifying to realize he'd sided with an alien invader over another human being. Falling into step with Zim, instead of running after or away from him, was thrilling, and Zim sent him a cryptic look he couldn't begin to understand.

"Where are we going?"

There was unity in the question.

"To get information."

And Zim didn't _fix _it.

They swung around the corner, avoided a few people with cell phones in their faces, and Dib came to a complete stop.

The _hospital_?

"We're going to Tom?"

And Zim didn't stop but he did glance at him, mouth curling into what could've been wry amusement if his eyes weren't so grim.

"Where else?"

_He's relying more on people. Not all people, and not all the time, but... _

A few years ago, Zim would've disappeared into his lab and spent hours coding through inaccessible sites and getting all the information he could on his own without even stopping to think there could be another way.

"I guess at this point surprise is redundant," he murmured, and didn't mean for Zim to hear him, but the Irken did, and laughed.

"You learn quickly." He strode into the hospital like he owned it, and headed for the elevator, this time, while Dib had been mentally preparing himself for three flights of stairs, and hit the "Door Close" button the moment they were both inside, much to the aggravation of a few people behind them. Dib smothered a nervous laugh behind his hand, and didn't quite catch the soft purple eyes that flitted his way for an instant.

The elevator didn't get stuck; rather, it sped up the flights a little more violently than Dib thought was usual, the lights dimming once, only slightly, and the PAK on Zim's back sparking. The doors burst open when they reached their floor, and a nurse sprang back in alarm. Dib hurried after Zim's purposeful stride, offering her what he was sure was a less-than-reassuring smile.

They rounded the corner and Zim threw open the door to Tom's room. Thankfully he didn't share it, so no poor patient was startled as Zim stalked over to Tom's bed by the window. Dib followed, and stood at the alien's side- thinking all the while that it was so strange to be there.

And then he realized that maybe it wasn't. That maybe those jocks in the cafeteria had had it right. Once upon a time their class had been pretty close, and he still caught a few smiles from Zita and M and a few others now and then as they passed each other on their way to classes, never missed their laughter when he and Zim would argue in the hallway, as if it was nostalgic and friendly and not a fight at all.

Maybe they all sort of knew that he and Zim were gonna end up on the same side one day, that all the fighting was a childish prelude to something bigger and better when they were adult enough to open their eyes to it.

The thought made him tuck away a smile, and he had to force himself to focus. Not on Zim's arms, or those sharp bright eyes, or the curve of his mouth-

No not on that at all.

Tom looked pleasantly surprised. "You must be Zim," he said, arching an eyebrow. "Dib's descriptions didn't do you justice. I thought you'd be a little taller though."

Dib only barely managed not to snort. Zim twitched, like a cat flicked with water, and looked thrown off for maybe a second, before his eyes narrowed slightly. "Sorry to disappoint. As you seem to know me well enough already, I'll skip to the point." He took a step forward and Dib watched his aggressive stature soften _just _a little- he couldn't see the Irken's face, but he could hear something different in his voice when the young invader muttered, "What's wrong with her?"

Dib looked away quickly from the rawness of Tom's expression, and sort of hunched his shoulders when Tom asked, low and fierce and afraid, "Did something happen?"

"No, not that I know of." Zim sat carefully in the chair next to Tom's bed, looking as though he'd rather throw himself into it, but also like he wasn't sure if he was welcome to be there at all. "I've been helping out around the cafe since your accident." He looked almost- almost _shy, _if Zim could ever look that way. Ever. Dib was floored, and Tom seemed to take it for the miracle that it was- smart guy.

"That was kind of you Zim- You've done so much, I don't know where I'd be without you. And you too, Dib." Tom smiled but it was an aching thing. "Anne... She has headaches, and dizzy spells. They can be pretty bad, downright scary at times, but she refuses to see a doctor. Takes over the counter stuff for it and pretends its helping when we both know its not." Tom rubbed his forehead fiercely, looking helpless- and angry about it. "What a time for me to be stuck in here."

Dib frowned. "How much longer do you have till you're released?"

"The doctor said about a week, two at most, depending on my progress. Physical therapy hasn't been a picnic."

Zim made an aggravated noise and kicked his feet, muttering something petulant under his breath. The chair was just tall enough, when he sat back completely, that his feet didn't touch the ground. Despite the mood, Dib caught Tom's eye and they both turned away to hide identical grins.

Zim was just so _cute, _Dib couldn't help but think, chuckling silently into his sleeve.

And then the chair screeched back against the wall and Dib glanced over in time to watch Zim tumble to the floor.

Dib stood there, frozen, as the alien's tiny body was wracked with violent coughs, hoarse wheezes in between as he fought to breathe. Tom, hooked to an IV, leaned as far as he could over and put a hand on Zim's fragile shoulder.

"Dib, call a nurse!" the man ordered. "_DIB!"_

But Dib was in motion already, dropping to Zim's side and scooping him up off the ground. It was heartbreakingly easy to lift him, he didn't weigh a thing. Dib cradled him close and backed away, eyes catching Tom's for one wild, breathless second.

"Dib... what are you- "

_If the doctors take him from me I'll lose him forever._

He bolted, tearing from the room with Zim close in his arms, Tom's concerned shout following him out into the hallway. Only a few nurses were at the desk, and all of them glanced up at the sound of the door cracking against the wall. He didn't hesitate, ran past them for the stairs, knew he'd make it down to the lobby faster on foot. He'd never moved like this before in his life, flying down the flights of stairs at a breakneck pace, hugging Zim's shaking body to him as tightly as he could, panic accelerating his heartbeat painfully.

Kicked open the door when he reached the ground floor and almost slipped on the polished floor as he sprinted around the corner, through the lobby, and out into the parking lot.

Zim was breathing faintly against his neck, and Dib clutched him closer, and kept running.

_"I don't know where I'd be without you."  
_Part Eight - End


	9. Part 9

Part Nine -

_"Here."_

It was scary, how quickly speculations become reality, and whole things break into pieces. Easily twenty minutes ago, Zim was fine. He was walking strong, speaking with authority, sending Dib those sidelong glances that made his heart skip, and now-

_Maybe he wasn't fine. Maybe he's had me fooled._

The alien was trembling, not quite unconscious, hazy purple barely peeking out under heavy, fluttering eyelids; and Dib had no idea where the fear came from, but he was terrified that Zim would fall asleep and never wake up again.

So he hefted Zim up a little closer, tightened his arms around him slightly, tried to speak firmly though all that came out was an urgent, desperate whisper; "Zim, stay with me- we're almost back to the base, we'll be there soon, just hold on- "

Fingers tightened on his arm and Zim shook his head; Dib could feel it against his shoulder.

"You don't want to go back to the base? But then where- " Zim's grip on him loosened and Dib swallowed his uncertainty. "Alright. Okay, we'll go someplace else, it's okay."

And that was how he found himself lying Zim down in his own bed as carefully as he knew how, brushing that fake black hair out of fake purple eyes, feeling his heart break in a way he didn't know it could, breaking in _fear_. He'd never been this afraid before.

Zim shifted, barely, eyes stubbornly open even as his breath came with a wheeze, and at this point Dib really thought he was going to hyperventilate from all this _worry_.

"Zim, just rest, please, you're safe and fine and everything's fine just don't try to- "

It was just the slightest head shake, all Zim was capable of at the moment, but it had the force of a shouted _"silence!" _with how quickly Dib shut up; he bit his lip and watched Zim closely, aching with the need to be _helpful _to him, and blinked in confusion when Zim murmured, "Here."

_Here? _What did he- was he delirious? Dib lurched forward to feel the Irken's forehead, wondering if he should run down to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, wondering if human medicine would do him any good anyway-

But Zim took his hand, moving it away from his face, and tugged weakly.

_Here. _

It came together with a click and Dib oh'd softly. Hesitating only a little, just for a second, he shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his sneakers, and lifted the blanket to join Zim under it. The Irken relaxed a little further as he laid down, exhaling slowly in what was a prelude to sleep, and by the time Dib's head was on the pillow, Zim was asleep.

_Where were we a month ago?_

Shouting and seething and glaring when they passed each other in the hall. So much in common, so much familiarity, so many secrets they shared, and it was all colored red, it was all hateful and angry, and changing that had never seemed even remotely like an option.

A month ago, Dib would never have entertained the idea of a crush on what was basically Public Enemy Number One. A month ago was like looking back into another world, or another life.

Because things _had _changed, Dib was in love, and they were _here, _lying in bed together, Zim sick and hurt and god knew what else. He took Zim's hand, so small in his, and held it tightly. Like together they could weather out the storm, hide from everything here in Dib's room, from the world outside the window and the worlds beyond it, from everything that might ever seek to hurt or break or _end _them_. _As light outside began to fade, and the digital faces on clocks and electronics began to look brighter, Dib bit back a sob he thought would break him.

_I have so much more to lose now, when all of this is over. _

He scrubbed his tears away with the blanket and leaned closer to Zim, whose breathing had evened out just a little, and did his best to sleep.

* * *

He woke up to a faint beeping. Zim was still asleep, and after a moment of early-morning grogginess, Dib set out to find the source of the beeping before it woke up his friend.

Just a friend.

_Lordy do I sound ungrateful, _he thought, a little amused despite himself. _I was only thinking last night how lucky it was we were _that _and now I want it to be something more._

He could be honest with himself though, since he'd shied around the idea for so long; he wanted more.

Shaking his head to clear it of those thoughts, he isolated the noise as coming from Zim's hoodie pocket. He withdrew a small device, the phone-like thing he'd seen Zim use before, and once it was unmuffled the beeping was _shrill. _

He panicked, sitting upright quickly, fingers ghosting over all the alien-marked buttons in a rush to make it stop before it woke up Zim.

He mashed a button at random and the beeping stopped. He slumped with a sigh of relief, already exhausted for having been awake for five minutes, and held the thing to his ear. He would just assume Zim rigged it to work as a phone; it was definitely within the realm of possibility.

"Hello?"

_"Is this Dib?" _It was Anne, of all people! Dib felt his brow furrow in confusion. _"Dib? Is it you?"_

"Yeah, yeah- it's me." He kept his voice low, and carefully climbed out of bed, covering Zim back up and touching his shoulder gently for a moment; sorry to leave him and the intimacy of the warm bed in favor of the cold hardwood floor and a whispered conversation in the hallway- subsequently annoyed at Anne for making it necessary. "How'd you get this number?"

_"Tom called me- he said something happened to Zim when you two were visiting him at the hospital yesterday, and I didn't want to call during the night- Zim's little brother answered at home and gave me his cell number. Is he okay?"_

_Oh, G.I.R. _Dib hoped the little thing wasn't worried, with Zim never having come home and then a stranger calling the base to ask about him. Zim worked so hard to shelter him from fear and from harm. "I don't know. He's still sleeping."

_"Dib, why did you take him from the hospital? He was in a place surrounded by nurses and doctors who could have helped him."_

For a minute, Dib was speechless.

With _rage. _

_Who the hell do you think you are? _He wanted to scream into the phone. _You weren't there, you didn't help, you didn't carry him home, you didn't do anything_, _you don't know anything!_

But he couldn't say that. Anne was sick too, and worried. So he stood there for a moment, clenching the phone so tightly it blinked in warning, biting his tongue against the rush of angry words he wanted to throw at her. At anyone.

_"Dib?"_

"I'll tell him you called."

_Click._

_"Where were we a month ago?"_

Part Nine - End


	10. Part 10

Part Ten -

_"And speaking of Dib."_

It was Friday and they had school, but neither of them stirred until well past noon, and when Dib opened his eyes, it was to find himself lying so close to Zim they were touching. Fingers closed around his wrist to still him before he could execute a truly embarrassing scramble backwards, which probably would have ended up with his dumping himself to the floor.

"Are we not going to school again today?" Zim's voice was quiet. "Won't your father be angry if he finds out you skipped twice in one week?"

The alien seemed content with their proximity, and didn't let go of his hand. Despite himself, Dib relaxed, and said, "The school has my home number, and my dad's never home."

His room was cool and quiet, the bed warm, the moment peaceful. Then something occurred to him, and he fished Zim's phone thing out of his pocket and held it between them. "It went off this morning, so I answered it. I didn't want it to wake you up, that thing's _loud_."

Zim hummed, in acknowledgement Dib supposed, and said, "I need to be able to hear it over G.I.R. Who was it?"

"Anne." He couldn't keep the cross tone out of his voice, and turned away to shove his face into his pillow with a huff. He could almost feel Zim pause, then the blanket shifted as he sat up. Dib sneaked a peek at him; his hair was a mess, his blue shirt was rumpled, the sheet pooled at his waist and drew Dib's eyes to the strip of bare skin from where his shirt had ridden up in his sleep. Dib looked away again quickly, and vainly hoped he wasn't blushing.

"You don't sound happy about it."

Dib sat up on his elbows and scowled. "She told me off about not taking care of you the "right" way, she doesn't even know what the right way is." _I don't even know, _Dib wanted to add sourly, _because you don't _tell _me anything._

But Zim was frowning now, and Dib lost his opportunity to speak. "I want to go check on G.I.R., and after that we need to have a talk with Tom's Anne." He made a shooing gesture and Dib hopped out of bed so Zim could follow. And as Zim searched for his boots, Dib allowed himself a small warm glow of joy, dispelling the earlier frustration as swiftly as blowing out a candle.

_'We.'_

* * *

They took the quickest route through the city to get to Zim's house; Zim's pace was pretty brisk despite how unhurried he looked, and before he knew it, Dib was following the Irken up the path guarded by gnomes and through the front door.

The living room light was on, but the T.V. wasn't, oddly enough. "G.I.R., come on out," Zim said, running a careless hand through his hair to get it back into some semblence of order, Dib trying hard not to watch. After a moment when there was no immediate shriek or crash or cheer, they glanced at each other.

But then a tiny voice was saying "Master?" and G.I.R. sans the silly green dog suit came into the room from the kitchen, big blue optic lenses wide and blank and still somehow really human, somehow a lot like a child's. "Strange lady called, said you were hurt."

Dib scowled. "Way to go, Anne."

Zim knelt. "Don't be stupid, G.I.R. Do I look hurt?" He offered the simple creature his arms, and it tottered forward to take them, very seriously patting at them, making sure they were solid. Zim kept a straight face for the duration of the android's examination, and finally, when G.I.R. brightened and whistled out a giggle, scooped the little thing up and murmured, "Good boy."

Dib reached over to rub the robot's head, and couldn't help but think this was the first time he'd ever seen Zim hug anything. "Maybe we shouldn't leave him home alone so much," Dib suggested slowly.

"I was thinking the same thing. Run along and get your leash, G.I.R., we'll go get lunch."

When Zim set him down, G.I.R. turned to peer up at him hopefully. "Tacos with Mary?"

"Yes, Dib's coming too." Zim glanced at the human a little humorlessly as G.I.R. squealed and ran down the hall. "'Tacos' is synonymous with 'lunch'."

Dib grinned, because he absolutely had to. "I see."

* * *

"I dunno if I'm ready for an open confrontation," Dib admitted as they turned the corner onto the street with Anne's cafe. "I mean it'd be different if she wasn't sick. Or, you know. A really nice lady."

"She upset... G.I.R." Zim didn't look at him as he pushed open the glass door, its bell announcing them. G.I.R. "It's confrontation time."

Dib followed, a step behind him, and when Anne came out from the kitchen he was in his place at Zim's side and he wouldn't move from there to save his life. She froze when she saw them, lips parted in a silent gasp.

"Zim!" Rushing forward, wiping her hands on her apron, she looked about to reach out to cup his face, but decided against it in the last second. "Oh, Tom told me what happened at the hospital, are you alright? What kind of attack was it?"

G.I.R. was very still, little black ears perked upright. Zim scowled, and Dib felt his heart skip. "What happened to me is none of your business. You weren't there. Let Tom know that I'm fine, and that Dib and I will finish our visit another time, and _speaking _of Dib." Zim stepped back, transferred G.I.R.'s leash to his opposite hand, and then reached over in one of the most surreal moments of Dib's young life to slide his arm around Dib's waist and tug him close.

As Dib's brain pretty much stopped functioning, Anne's eyes widened again for a different reason, her lips curled slightly in what was probably the prelude to a knowing smile.

"He has my trust." The alien's eyes were as fierce and unwavering as the arm locking Dib into place against his side. The boy's face was flushed a deep red; he didn't know what to do, didn't want to struggle away, never, but had no idea where to put his hands; so he settled for resting the one tentatively on top of Zim's, the other coming up to rest on the small of Zim's back. He knew Zim wanted to present a unified front, and blushing and flapping around all embarrassed would undermine his efforts here. So Dib would play along.

And try not to look like a lovestruck girl in the arms of her dream guy.

Oh god, he probably did.

_If anything, _was Dib's panicked inner dialogue, _if anything I'm just following his lead, he won't read anything into this, he won't._

Meanwhile the world was still turning, and Zim was still speaking.

"I respect his decisions, and his actions in lieu of my- state at the hospital kept me from danger." Dib tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shiver as Zim's arm around him tightened. "Furthermore, this is G.I.R., the one who gave you my cell number, and you owe him an apology."

In the brief silence that followed, Dib trying to school his expression to match Zim's mask of cool disdain, Anne proved herself to be intelligent, and knelt down in front of little G.I.R. Dib knew that his father, for example, would have fired up and demanded to know why he should have to apologize to a dog, as would pretty much any grown-up would have anywhere, because apologizing seemed demeaning to them somehow, though Dib would never know why saying "I'm sorry" could be a blow to anyone's pride.

But instead, Anne rested a gentle hand on G.I.R.'s head and said she was sorry. "Did I scare you yesterday?" she murmured, looking sad. "You didn't know what happened, did you. I'm sorry."

Zim's eyes softened a little as G.I.R. leaned into her hand with a happy noise, a glutton for attention. For a split second, Dib wondered if she was going to ask how a green dog could answer a telephone, but she seemed to guess, rightly so, that the question would only be brushed aside.

"Thank you," Dib told her, when Zim was not forthcoming. "And we're really not here to pick a fight. But- you know, you still haven't told us what's wrong with you. Tom's worried about you too, he's trying to rush himself out of the hospital so he can be here for you."

Anne folded her arms tightly, glancing away to stare out the window vacantly in thought. G.I.R. leaned against Dib's leg, humming something soft, and Zim glanced at his human companion sidelong. The latter offered a half-smile.

After a moment, Anne chuckled. It was a kind of hopeless sound.

"Isn't this sort of funny?" she muttered. "We're complete strangers."

"Strangers, yes," Zim said quietly. "But friends of circumstance."

She reached out and took their hands, enfolding them in both of hers. "Yes."

* * *

They left with her promise to close the shop early on Sunday and meet them in Tom's hospital room to face the truth as a team. Dib felt a lot more cheerful now that they all had reached some sort of understanding, and when they stopped at a street vendor to buy G.I.R. a hotdog, he opened his mouth to say- well, he didn't know, anything really, when Zim looked at him suddenly, mouth tight, bright eyes distressed.

"When we get back to the base, I'll tell you." Zim reached over, like he would take Dib's hand, but his arm stalled halfway there, and he dropped it. "I- meant what I said, to Anne. I'll tell you."

Dib felt some of the air go out of him, and he almost staggered. He'd given up on this, and here Zim was, offering it to him like Zeus had offered Pandora the box. He'd seen the bruises on Zim's face and arms, he'd seen the exhaustion and fatigue, the change of mannerisms, the regression from the bright and ambitious young Irken he'd been when he landed to the silent and thoughtful not-human he was now. Zim moved like there was a weight on his shoulders that bowed him to the point where he could barely stand. And Dib wondered, for just a split second, watching Zim watch him with weary, wary purple eyes, if he was right in wanting to know.

But Eve was right to take the apple.

And Dib couldn't imagine _not _taking Zim's hand, so he did, and then hugged him close, too, because he wanted Zim to understand, suddenly, that no matter what happened when they opened this box, Dib was never going to leave. Zim stiffened and then in the space of a heartbeat Dib felt him relax, and breathe out something like a sigh.

_"He has my trust."_

Part Ten - End


	11. Part 11

Part Eleven -

_"You're gonna be okay."_

The first thing Zim said was "It doesn't hurt."

They were sitting at his kitchen table, side by side instead of across from one another, and at those cautious words Dib was already so anxious his stomach hurt.

"What doesn't- "

But Zim cut him off with a shake of his head, looking miserable. He glanced around the room, studied Dib's face for a moment, then put a hand on the table and raised the other to his left eye.

Dib felt a thrill as Zim removed the purple contact lense- he hadn't seen the red of Zim's real eyes in-

He reeled back.

Zim removed the second contact. Dib felt bile rising in his throat and clamped a hand over his mouth. Zim lay the contacts in a shallow dish on the table, and hesitated, then moved wandering, sightless pink eyes to about where Dib's were.

_He's blind. Without those contacts he's- _

"Oh- oh god, _Zim- _"

"Zim!"

They both flinched in surprise as the monitor behind the couch in the living room came to life, the Irken leaders peering in at the empty room impatiently. Zim scrambled blindly for the dish on the table, calling over his shoulder "I'll be right there, my Tallest," in a voice that sounded remarkably calm for a creature caught so helplessly off-guard. Dib reached out to guide Zim's hands and the small not-human thanked him quietly.

Dib sat where he was when Zim stood to rush to the living room. After a long moment, he was able to move just enough to put his face in his hands, glasses sliding up onto his forehead. His stomach was churning; he felt like he was about to pass out.

It was only about five minutes before there was a touch on his shoulder. "Do you need to leave?"

There was an escape in that question. Zim was giving him a way out of- all this. Of knowing any more of this terrible secret.

Dib picked his head up and turned to face him. The Irken had his sleeves drawn over his hands, clenching the ends of them tightly, purple eyes bright and uncertain.

"You look like you're about to be sick. Was this a terrible idea? I just thought- "

"You're gonna die." It wasn't a question.

Zim blinked, and when he said "Probably," Dib wanted to scream.

"_Probably?" _He stood, fiercely, kicking the chair out of the way, and Zim had just enough stubborn Irken left in him that he didn't flinch away or back up, just let Dib tower over him in rage, looking up at him with wide careful eyes. "So you've thought about it then, mulled it over while _deigning _not to tell me, and you think that's okay? Keeping all that to yourself? You'll _probably _die. What the fuck is that, Zim?" He grabbed the alien's shoulders, clenched the fabric of his jacket there and drew Zim closer, almost snarling; he could never remember feeling like this before- not quite anger, not quite fear, but something with teeth that gnawed its way to the pit of his stomach and made his hands shake. "Tell me- what the fuck is that."

"I...I'm not sure what you- "

"How do you have the _gall _to be mad at Anne? She did exactly what you're doing, hiding it away and trying to deal with it on her own. She _probably _would have _died _that way too, but she got help. And that's what you're getting, Zim." He let go of him, running an agitated hand through his hair. "_Fuck._ I can't even- I knew you were sick, I knew something was wrong, but- it caused you to go _blind _and you didn't think that was enough of a warning bell? Your skin is so pale now you can easily pass for European which is probably why all those goddamn girls oggle you everytime we try to go fucking _anywhere, _jesus. And still, didn't think to mention it. That's what you were doing when I found you unconscious in your lab wasn't it? Trying to come up with some- some antitode or whatever. I'm just as smart as you are Zim don't you think between the two of us we would have had a better shot at figuring this out? I can't _believe _you. Now you're- now it's damaged you forever, because of your goddamn _pride, _and that's-"

"I'm sorry."

Dib paused in his violent pacing. "What?"

"I'm sorry." Zim looked absolutely _tiny, _and his eyes were round under that mop of messy hair. "I meant to- I wanted to ask you several times, but-"

"But what?" Dib snapped, still trembling. "Irken invader can't sink so low as to ask help from a-"

"I was scared." Purple eyes narrowed at him, daring for just a moment, before dropping to the tile floor. "It had nothing to do with pride."

The silence stretched for a minute that felt like an hour, as Dib stared at Zim and Zim stared at the floor. The few feet between them tugged at Dib's aching heart.

_He was all on by himself for so long. He wanted to ask for help and he didn't know how. And his body was failing and he didn't know why, and it happened so slowly he probably really didn't notice until he started having problems seeing, and by then the damage was done. So he worked on it by himself, and meanwhile we were becoming friends, and he didn't say a word. Why would he? Saying it out loud makes it real and he was probably afraid of what I'd say. What I'd do. Maybe he thought I'd leave._

Dib crossed the distance between them and pulled Zim into a hug, breath catching at the thought of not being able to hold him in the future. Zim curled into him immediately, silently, and if there was a way to save him Dib would find it no matter _what. _

There _had _to be a way.

"We're in this together now, okay?" Zim nodded against his shoulder and Dib sighed. "Okay. Everything's gonna be okay. _You're _gonna be okay. We'll fix this."

They spent the night on the couch with G.I.R. and about seven romcoms, only getting up once to get the door when the delivery guy finally got there with an insane amount of Chinese takeout.

About halfway through the second movie Dib put an arm around Zim's shoulders and Zim leaned against him.

The hugs were a new thing, and already Dib's arms felt empty without him.

_"We'll fix this."_

Part Eleven - End


End file.
